


Spilled Ink

by SilenceoftheLlamas



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Demon AU, Human AU, M/M, Some very unfortunate witches have a terrible day, Weapon AU, unnamed character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceoftheLlamas/pseuds/SilenceoftheLlamas
Summary: Jazz and Prowl have an assignment - find the rogue witch, and kill her.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47
Collections: Loose Shanix





	Spilled Ink

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write Prowl with tattoos and then certain songs came on and then this happened   
> I 100% want to write more in this setting, I just really needed to hash this out and get it out of my system first. Hopefully the next instalment will be far more polished, ha!

Jazz chewed on his toothpick as he waited for Prowl to leave the petrol station. The sun was slowly beginning to sink below the horizon – it wouldn’t be long now until their target appeared. He leaned against the steering wheel, arms crossed in front of him as he peered over the dashboard.

There was a shadowy figure watching. Jazz had spotted it the moment they’d pulled up to the station, lurking in the shadows by the bushes, and silently watching them. He daren’t go and deal with it whilst Prowl wasn’t there. If it went wrong he was fucked, so they were left to their silent staring competition instead. In the corner of his eye he finally saw Prowl leaving, paper bag in his arms.

“Sorry I took so long.” He said as he slid into the seat next to him, rummaging in the bag for his smoothie. “I got you an iced tea.”

“Thanks.” Jazz said, accepting the cool bottle. He didn’t take his eyes off of the shadowy figure, but when Prowl appeared, they retreated back into the darkness, just barely peeking out from the leaves.

“What’s wrong?”

“Somethin’ in the bushes.” Jazz said, nodding his head towards it.

“It’s nothing to concern ourselves with.” Prowl sniffed. “Let’s go.”

“A’ight. If Ah wake up with my toes nibbled off, Ah’m comin’ for you.” Jazz screwed the top back onto his drink before turning the car on, slowly pulling out of the petrol station. Prowl glanced in the mirror, watching the bushes intently. There was no movement.

“And if I were the one to nibble you?”

“Ya know Ah am not afraid to drive us into oncoming traffic.”

“You know that is not enough to kill me.” Prowl smirked at him.

“Ah know ya wouldn’t let me die.”

Prowl hummed in response, taking a sip of his drink.

They drove on, heading onto the motorway. Jazz briefly glanced down at what Prowl had chosen for himself to drink – a strawberry and banana smoothie.

“Ah still cannot believe that ya like fruity smoothies.” he commented.

“A man can enjoy a fruity smoothie if he so pleases.”

“What about coffee? Ah don’ think Ah’ve ever seen ya drink coffee.”

“I don’t like bitter things.”

“Yanno, everythin’ they tell us about you guys is that you’re all so doom and gloom, blood of the innocents.” Jazz said, waving his hands about vaguely. “An’ yet here Ah am, with one sat in the passenger seat of my car, drinking a pink fruit smoothie and has probably bought about four packs of different sweet puddings.”

“I like blood pudding.” Prowl argued.

“Did ya buy a load of deserts again?”

“… yes.”

“See! God, you’re the worst. You’re a terrible demon, Prowl. Terrible.”

Prowl snorted in disbelief. “All you know about us comes from the ravings of a lunatic. I am not the only one who appreciates the finer things in life.”

“Petrol station food is really not the finer things in life, Prowler.”

“Then I shall run up your room service bill. Take the next exit.”

“You’re gonna get so fat. Ah won’t be able ta lift ya!” Jazz warned.

“Tonight is going to be a good workout. I’ll be sure to keep the weight off.” Prowl replied, stretching his arms out in front of him, joints crackling. The cuff of his sleeve pulled back, revealing a slither of heavily tattooed skin. Jazz swallowed hard.

“Best keep ya gloves on tight and sleeves down, Prowler. Can’t be havin’ people see that.”

“I suppose so.” Prowl replied, readjusting his clothes.

* * *

They’d checked in, Jazz promptly flopping down onto the bed as soon as he’d hastily kicked his shoes off. Prowl snorted at him, moving to stand by the window and survey the area around them.

They’d received reports of rogue witches in the area, and so they had been dispatched to ‘deal’ with them. Both were smart enough to read in between the lines – they’d gone too far, and there was no going back for them. They’d need to be killed.

“Can ya feel anythin’?” Jazz asked, voice heavily muffled by the plush duvet.

“Somewhat.” Prowl replied. “They’re in the area still. We’ll need to be careful to not draw their attention.”

Jazz pushed himself up to check his phone for the time. “It’s only seven. We’ve got a few hours until we need ta head out.” He rolled onto his back, stretching himself out. “Come on, ya should get some sleep.”

Prowl shrugged, drawing the curtains and peeling his gloves and jacket off, sticking the gloves into the pockets of his jacket before laying it over the back of a chair. He unlaced his boots, placing them neatly together on the floor, and sat on the edge of the bed Jazz was laying on, dutifully fluffing a pillow before reclining next to him.

“Hey-!”

“There’s only one bed again.”

Jazz shot up, grumbling. “ _Ugh_. They always do this.”

“I shan’t be nibbling you, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Nah, Ah ain’t ‘to ya tastes’.” Jazz bunny eared the words.

“Precisely. Mine are far, far too refined.”

He barely dodged the pillow that Jazz lobbed at him.

“Ah’m gettin’ changed.” Jazz announced, standing and opening his suitcase, grabbing his pyjamas out of it. “Ah suggest ya do the same.”

“Alright.”

Jazz locked the bathroom door behind him, quickly splashing his face with cold water before stripping off and pulling on his pyjamas.

Prowl could be so rude sometimes!

He knocked on the bathroom door twice. “Are ya decent?” He called out.

“I am.” Prowl called back.

Jazz unlocked the door and walked back into the room, chucking his clothes haphazardly back into his suitcase before looking up and yelling loudly, slapping his hands over his eyes.

“Prowl! Ya said you were decent!”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” Prowl scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, I am.” He pointed down, and it was only now he properly looked that Jazz realised he was wearing shorts.

“They blend in so well with ya tattoos.” Jazz replied in amazement, climbing onto the bed and crawling forwards in amazement. “Ya so covered in the things it’s hard ta tell sometimes.”

“They’re thinking of making me have more.” Prowl said as he climbed in next to Jazz, snuggling down under the duvet.

“They’ll have ta fight me first on that one.” Jazz huffed, curling up beside him. “Ah hate fightin’ knowin’ that ya not at ya full potential.”

“Apparently they’re finding me a bit hard to control.” Prowl leaned over Jazz to turn off the light, plunging the two into darkness.

“We all know the way ta ya heart is sugar.”

“I shall be controlled with heaps of custard and lashings of maple syrup.”

“Seriously, Ah will fight them. It’s not fair. It’s so frustratin’ having you all sealed up like this.”

“It is extremely annoying not being able to achieve what I know myself to be capable of.” Prowl acknowledged. “However, they do allow me to stay with you, so I can’t complain too much.”

“Aww, Ah knew ya liked me.”

“Goodnight, Jazz.”

Jazz snickered to himself as he made himself comfortable, closing his eyes and allowing himself to slip off to sleep.

* * *

Prowl handed him a shitty petrol station breakfast bar as the alarm on his phone went off. Jazz blearily accepted it, yawning hard.

It was one thirty am. They had an hour and a half to find and kill their targets.

“Can ya still feel them?” He asked as he bit into it, sleepily chewing.

“I can.” Prowl replied, buttoning up his shirt, staring intently at the window with eyes that were ringed in a glowing amber. “They’re close.”

“This should be over quickly, then, if they’re not strong enough ta detect ya.”

“Or they can, and they’re extremely cocky.” Prowl replied.

“Or that.” Jazz acknowledged. “Let’s hope it’s the former.”

Dressed and ready, the pair left the hotel, walking confidently out towards the car park. Prowl lead the way, walking quickly towards his prey.

“How many are there?” Jazz asked as they blindly stumbled along behind Prowl as he lead them along a dirt track in the forest. He gripped tightly onto the back of Prowls jacket.

“Three witches, one cat.”

“Three? The brief only mentioned one.”

“I suppose two more turned whilst we travelled down here.”

“Should we leave ‘em? Ah really don’t wanna have ta kill more than Ah have ta.”

“I say we leave no stone unturned and exterminate them all. They knew the risks.”

“Let’s see how we feel when we get there, then.” Jazz diplomatically replied. Prowl grunted in response.

Prowls tattoos almost glowed in the darkness, faint speckles of blue peeking up over the collar of his jacket. Jazz knew every single one of them in great detail, right the way down to the stars that covered the soles of his feet. His left foot had the constellation of Orion. Jazz had chosen that design. His right collar bone bore Jazz’s name. The council had chosen that one – it marked him as being paired with Jazz as his weapon.

Prowl suddenly stopped, throwing his hand up to signal to Jazz that he needed to stop too. He strained his ears, listening hard.

He could hear the crackling of a fire. If he breathed hard enough, he could vaguely smell the smoke, but something was extremely off about it. They were burning something strange.

“How close?” Jazz quietly whispered.

“Sixteen metres.” Prowl quietly whispered back. “Climb up this tree and throw me.” He said, grabbing Jazz’s hand and transforming into a boomerang.

Jazz secured him to his back, and began scaling upwards, expertly shimmying himself up the tree. He climbed up as high as he could go, ensuring that he had an excellent view of the trio of witches down on the forest floor below.

“Three witches. One has definitely gone rogue.” Jazz quietly said.

“Try and get them all in one shot.”

“Roger that.” Jazz took aim with Prowl, holding his breath to get the clearest view possible-

And threw him.

Prowl whizzed through the air, slicing through branches and leaves indiscriminately, and Jazz had to look away as he heard the witches screaming.

And then, silence. A whistle as Prowl came back. He caught him, his hand slickened with blood.

“Two out of three. She knows where we are.” Prowl said. Jazz quickly got the hint, promptly descending down to the thicker branches, and hopping between the trees like a squirrel in an attempt to get enough distance from her for their next move.

“How strong is she?”

“Not very, she’s very new to this.”

“Alright. Give me a bow. Ah’m shootin’ her.”

Prowl transformed himself into a bow this time, Jazz drawing an arrow made of pure blue light and taking aim.

One.

Two.

Three!

He fired, the arrow striking true, piercing her through her throat. She fell to the floor with a gurgle.

Jazz glanced at his watch. Two thirteen in the morning.

“That was quick.” He said, hopping down out of the tree.

“Very.” Prowl changed back, neatly landing on two feet beside him. “I’ll wait for clean up to arrive, you go back to bed. You’re exhausted and sloppy. We could have taken all three in one go if you weren’t so tired.”

“Oh, shove off, Prowl.” Jazz snapped, wiping his hands off on a tissue and dumping it on the floor. “Just because you only need four hours of sleep...” He grumbled, turning to march away. He stopped when it registered just how _dark_ it was.

“Ah’ll wait with ya. Ah can sleep when we get back.”

“Suit yourself.”

* * *

Killing all three had been a terribly bad move. Ultra Magnus was less than pleased with them, and they had both been summoned before the council.

The drive back had been awfully quiet. The two of them silently shared the deserts Prowl had bought – a curious looking mini cheesecake, an apple strudel, a strawberry shortcake, and a millionaires shortbread.

Prowl pulled them into the garage at their apartment block, and the two sat in silence for a few moments after Prowl shut off the engine.

“Ah can’t believe we killed them.” Jazz quietly said.

“We did the best we could have in the situation.” Prowl said, hands still gripping the wheel. “They were in danger of going rogue themselves. We simply saved ourselves the trip.”

“We could have taken them in.”

“I hardly think two grown men forcing two teenaged girls into their car would go down well with anyone.”

“Ah hate it when ya do that.” Jazz grumbled.

“Do what?”

“Make sense.” Jazz opened the car door, climbing out. “Ah’m gonna go get a banana or somethin’. Somethin’ _healthy_. My mouth is sticky an’ my teeth hurt from all that sugar.”

“Save one for me.” Prowl said, getting out of the car and opening the boot to retrieve their suitcases. “I’ll take these upstairs.”

“Ya absolute star.”

* * *

Jazz fiddled with his shirt, adjusting his tie over and over. Prowl sat opposite him, watching him intently over templed fingers.

“Let me do it.” Prowl finally said when he’d had enough of Jazz’s fidgeting. Jazz reluctantly allowed him to adjust it, pinning it to his shirt and adjusting his suit jacket.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Nervous. Stressed.” Jazz replied, biting the nail of his thumb. “Magnus looked _pissed_.”

“He always looks pissed.”

“Nah, like, _really_ pissed. Ah didn’ think he could frown harder than he usually does.”

Prowl pinched Jazz’s cheeks, pulling them out slightly so Jazz made a funny face. “Remember. It was all my idea.”

“Buh-”

“Shh. My idea.”

“Eeehh~”

“The worst they can do to me is force me to get another tattoo.” Prowl said, pushing Jazz’s cheeks inwards so he looked like an odd hamster. “Whereas they can fire you and wipe your memory.

“But they can send ya back through the portal!” Jazz protested, pulling Prowl’s hands away from his face and holding them tightly.

“I’d like to see them try.”

“Ya can’t fight them, Prowler-”

“With you, I can.” Prowl began walking forwards, forcing Jazz to walk backwards, until his back connected with a wall. “I have you marked,” He said, his hand freeing itself to press against Jazz’s chest, the other man’s breath hitching, “and I will be able to find you no matter where you are. They cannot keep me from you. I _own_ you.” His fingers traced up, over his collarbone, past the collar of his shirt, tickling up his neck to rest at the back of his head, fingers intertwining with the thick locks of hair. “I will not allow them to take you from me.” He pressed his forehead to Jazz’s, eyes slowly closing.

“Okay.” Jazz breathed. “Your idea.”

* * *

Prowl had made it abundantly clear to the council that it was all his idea, and that if they so chose to shove him back through the portal as punishment, he would be back, and _not_ under their command.

Jazz could only watch in open mouthed shock as Prowl removed his gloves with his teeth and began to bleed ink, it thickly splashing to the floor and staining his perfectly crisp white shirt. And, just to rub it in even more, Prowl had delicately plucked a tissue from the tissue box on the table in front of him, and made a show of wiping himself clean, revealing the clear flesh beneath. His tattoos were gone.

“Did ya really have ta do that?” Jazz hissed into his ear as they left the room, wearily watching the guards on either side of them.

“Yes.” Prowl replied, still wiping the expelled ink from his hands. “They threatened what is mine, so I shattered their illusion of control over me.”

“Ah didn’t even know ya _could_ do that.”

“Neither did I, until earlier. I felt the ink running down my back. I am grateful that my jacket hid the ink stain.”

“Do ya have ta get ya tatts again? Ya look so fresh, an’ it’d be nice ta be able to fight at full power.”

“You couldn’t handle me.” Prowl bluntly replied, dropping his sodden tissue into the bin.

“Bet.”


End file.
